


Footloose

by Dahliaxat68



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Time, Humor, Kink, Leg Cramp, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash, screenshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dahliaxat68/pseuds/Dahliaxat68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Footloose is a Star Trek: TOS Kirk/Spock story by Dahliaxat & Medicated Maniac.<br/>It was published in the print zine Legends #7 in 2012.</p><p>A simple leg cramp for Kirk turns into something completely other for Spock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Footloose

I would like to thank my good friend Medicated Maniac for co-authoring this story. She is so talented in the detail of describing what my characters are experiencing which by itself my story suffered greatly. I also had my beta-reader to go through any errors.

Any other errors are my own.

Author's Chapter Notes:

This story had a line that I didn't find was Spock appropriate so it was changed for the zine. Here is that version.

It was a normal day on the Enterprise. McCoy and Spock were arguing across the mess hall table they sat at while eating their breakfast. It wasn't a heated debate as such, just a minor disagreement, and since the mess hall was unaccountable empty they were giving the debate their all. Whatever the topic being discussed, it always seemed to end up that way. But even though they fought, everyone on board knew that the feeling human and detached Vulcan were friends, albeit that neither one of them would ever admit it.  
  
McCoy lent back in his chair, and fixed the first officer with an exasperated look. "I give up," he said, disgustedly."There's no point arguing with a Vulcan." Spock remained silent as the doctor turned his attention back to the food on his plate. He poked at it with his fork for a while then, apparently deciding he'd not given up on his side of the argument after all, opened his mouth to continue. "But I still think those damned transporters are the grim reaper in disguise." He gestured at his meal with the hand not holding the fork. "I'll never be comfortable having my molecules scrambled like this omelette and then reconstructed by mere memory from a computer," he added. "I tell you Spock, the original me is long gone, and maybe my soul along with him."  
  
"Really, doctor," Spock replied, "that is a most illogical statement. Transporter technology has been tested and proven to be adequately safe. What you say has no basis in fact. You are the same person today as you were yesterday or any day before that," he paused and arched a feline-like eyebrow, unfortunately," he added under his voice.  
  
McCoy, his Human ears not catching the final word, but his Human intuition picking up on the sentiment, glared furiously at his most irritating nemesis. He held up his hands. "Look, I really don't want to discuss this with you, Spock. Neither of us is winning this one."  
  
"Winning what Doctor?" Spock said smoothly. "I am merely pointing out that.."  
He broke off as the captain entered the room. Kirk walked over to the food dispensers and ordered his meal before approaching their table, plate in hand.  
  
"My god, I could hear you two out in the corridor," he exclaimed. "What's gotten you guys all riled up this time?" He grinned as he slid into the seat next to McCoy. He always got a real kick out of the mock battles that so often occupied his two best friends.  
  
"Transporters," McCoy said shortly, still glaring at the composed Vulcan.   
  
Kirk's smile grew wider as his mind supplied him with the likely content of the argument he'd interrupted. "Oh," he said, then decided maybe a change of subject was in order. "Well, I have something far more fun to discuss," he added. "Shore Leave."  
  
McCoy smiled as the thought of transporters hastily departed from the forefront of his thoughts. "Please tell me we are going to a planet with naked women," he said, "preferably lots and lots of naked women."  
  
"Well, there will be women," Kirk answered, waggling his eyebrows," the naked part is up to you." He shoved a forkful of McCoy-prescribed salad into his mouth.  
  
"Very funny, Jim," the doctor said switching his gaze to the first officer sitting across from them. "I guess that means Spock won't be tagging along."  
  
"That is correct," the Vulcan said, his tone one of mild disapproval.  
  
Kirk put down his fork and lifted his arms above his head, yawning widely.  
"That's too bad Spock, you should come on shore leave and have some fun." He tousled his hair as another yawn began. "I just came here from the gym... come to think of it I need to stretch." He began to do just that, stretching his arms as far as he could make go, hands splayed. The moment he arched his back and stretched his legs under the table though, he began to moan not of catlike pleasure but of severe unadulterated pain. "Oh shit," he forced out, screwing his eyes shut as they began to water from the pain. "Cramp. God, what do you, Bones? Do you stay still till it passes or do you make it move? Oww god,"   
  
McCoy rolled his eyes. Kirk, stoical to the point of what the doctor considered to be recklessness when it came to life-threatening injuries and illness, could, paradoxically be an utter baby when it came to minor medical irritations. Nevertheless, McCoy was a medic through and through and never less than professional. "Where's the cramp?" he sighed.  
"Ugh fuck, it hurts,"Kirk gasped, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. "In my calf muscle," he added.  
  
"Can you take your boot off?" McCoy asked.  
  
"No. I can't move. It hurts too much," came the groaning reply.  
  
Spock quickly placed his head under the table and finding his friend's foot, deftly removed the boot.  
  
"Shit...Shit...oh thanks Spock that feels a little better but it isn't gone," Kirk gasped, slumping slightly, but managing to open his eyes again.  
  
"Stay still, Jim, and keep your leg straight, and then if you can wiggle your toes," McCoy ordered.  
  
"All right. God, the pain is unbearable," Kirk grunted as McCoy tried to keep a professional look on his face.  
  
Kirk didn't seem to realize it but his outstretched leg was aimed in the exact direction of Spock's crotch. When his foot rested at the front tip of the chair he began to push and wiggle his little toes, the pins and needles in his foot preventing him from realising he was gently kneading his first officer's cock as he did so.   
  
Spock could see on Kirk's face the pure relief he felt, and told himself that this was the only reason he said nothing. He tried hard to ignore the breathtaking sensations of those precious toes pushing and prodding his now burgeoning erection.  
  
"How's that, Jim?" McCoy asked. "Is it working?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so," Kirk replied. "Maybe just a little more."  
  
Spock tried to contain the arousal that was growing inside him as the captain continued to push and brush and stroke, but he couldn't prevent what happened. He tensed as waves of ecstasy slipped down his spine. He had no idea how he was going to leave the mess hall now, he thought dazedly. He would have to wait until his dining companions had left.  
  
"Ah," Kirk said, the relief evident in the sigh of his voice. "That's a lot better." He turned to look at the Vulcan. "Can you pass me my boot, Spock?" he asked.  
  
Spock simply stared at him, not finding any words to say. Kirk looked puzzled as he repeated his question and moved his foot away. The movement was enough to focus the first officer's mind. He cleared his throat as he bent to retrieve the boot. "Certainly," he said, passing it over. "Here it is, Captain."  
  
Jim took the boot and slipped it on, a small crease between his blond eyebrows, "Are you ok, Spock? You look a little out of sorts."  
  
"I am fine," Spock answered, shifting slightly in his seat, sure they would at any moment see a clue to what had happened in his face or his reactions.  
  
Kirk eyed the Vulcan thoughtfully. "You sure we can't change your mind about shore leave?" he asked. "It'll be fun. Maybe we can see the sights together? I think there's an archaeological dig that you might find to your liking. What do ..."  
  
"Yes, I would like to go," Spock said, rather more rapidly than he'd intended in his eagerness to bring this conversation to a close. "It sounds fascinating. At what time do we leave?"  
  
Kirk's face lit up at the unexpectedly positive response. "Tomorrow at 11.00 hours," he said happily. Spock felt that smile touch him like sunshine.  
  
"I look forward to it," the Vulcan said in a low voice.  
  
"I'm glad," Kirk replied, the smile still on his face and his eyes focussed only on Spock. He got up from his chair, suddenly all business. "Well if you'll excuse me," he said, "I'm off to the bridge."  
  
McCoy stood up as well. "And I daresay I'm needed in sickbay," he said. "See ya later, Spock." The two of them turned towards the exit.   
  
Spock remained at the table, watching as they walked across the room. His eyes momentarily shifted guilty to his crotch and when he looked back up it was to see that Kirk had paused and turned back towards him. The captain stared pointedly down in the direction from which Spock's gaze had just returned, then raised his eyebrows and licked his lips in a way that even a Vulcan could only describe as lascivious. Spock stared wordlessly at him as he grinned and winked before he turned and swept out through the open door.  
  
Spock sat still for a long moment, a hot green tinge staining his cheeks. Finally he rose from his seat, the cooling stickiness in his pants beginning to feel uncomfortable.  
He shook his head as he exited the room as quickly as was seemly.  "As the humans would say," he said into the silence of the empty corridor. "I really need a drink."  
  
                                                                                                         Fin


End file.
